


Best kept secret

by LyannaAsh



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Moral Dilemmas, Murder Mystery, My First Work in This Fandom, No Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, POV Alternating, Platonic Relationships, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, Team as Family, Twins, of sorts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23651410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyannaAsh/pseuds/LyannaAsh
Summary: Twins Mason and Morgan are involved in an accident where an innocent person ends up dead. With no idea what to do next they end up in Falkreath where they meet Lucien Flavius. Becoming tangled up in a plot he doesn't even understand, things begin to get darker and sacrifices might need to be made.
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfiction I've written since about 2013 so I'm very rusty and out of practice. This is also the first Skyrim fanfiction I've ever written, so go gentle on me please.

“I can’t believe it” A man with dark unkempt hair said as he walked beside another through the cobbled roads of Falkreath. If anybody had been around to give the pair a closer look, they’d notice that the two were out of breath, and sweat gleaned across their foreheads. Upon even further inspection they’d notice the small rips and tares in the man's clothes “I can’t believe you talked me into doing that” 

“I didn’t talk you into anything” The other spoke. A woman with the same dark hair. Instead of wearing robes like the man was, she wore light leather armor, a sword hanging from her hip. She was slightly limping, placing more weight on one foot than another, but it had been hardly noticeable, as if she had been hiding her pain. 

“Fine, but I told you not to get that close. You don’t listen, Morgan. You never do” The man stopped at the stairs beneath a sign that read Dead Man’s Drink. He crossed his arms, gazing down at the girl with an annoyed expression. He was at least a few inches taller, but the two had the same golden eyes. “I know you think we always want to do the same things because we’re twins, but that’s not ever the case. You know how different we are. You’re… well… strong, and you like to fight things. You didn’t have to attack that bear. I could have told you that you wouldn’t be able to handle it on your own. Then we wouldn’t have had to run… and that man wouldn’t have had to die, but….” The more he spoke, the more visibly upset he became. 

“Stop. I get it Mason” Morgan said, avoiding any sort of eye contact with her brother. “I messed up. You don’t have to keep bringing it up” She seemed adamant about not reliving the details of that unfortunate encounter. “We’re here in Falkreath now” she dropped her voice, low enough to where only the two of them could hear. “Nobody knows. He was alone, no witnesses. We’re not murderers. It was an accident”

Instead of being reassured by his sister's words, Mason turned away from her towards the Inn, dismissing her entirely. He paused before opening the door giving himself a moment to breathe so that he could mask his discomfort and guilt. Morgan was right about one thing, nobody here in Falkreath knew that the dead man was their fault. He had to bury his guilt and fear and act as if nothing happened or risk people finding them suspicious. When he sensed Morgan did the same, he opened the door and stepped inside. 

**Mason**

He rationalized it as though stepping over the threshold of the inn absolved him of more than just the guilt. He used the metaphor as an opportunity to become somebody else. Nobody here knew who he was, so he could essentially be anybody he wanted to the patrons inside. At least he told himself that. Deep down he couldn’t be anybody else. He’d always be the gentle hearted easy going boy who occasionally shed a tear at the endings of books. 

The inn was mostly empty, give or take a few patrons sitting mostly alone. There was a person standing at the bar, likely ready to prepare drinks and food for whoever asked, a drunk man asleep at one of the furthest tables obscured by shadows, and a mother and child. Pretty usual suspects. The only person that seemed to stand out was a finely dressed man glancing back and forth between himself- No not himself, Morgan, and the table. 

Even though Morgan had always been the stronger one, both mentally and physically, Mason still couldn’t help but narrow his eyes at the stranger. Men usually glanced at his sister, but not so awkwardly. Their unsavory intentions could be easily read. Not this time. Mason sensed that Morgan noticed too, because she stepped forward past him towards the shifty looking man. 

“Hi” She chirped. “Admiring me? Please be more vocal about it” she stated, grabbing the attention of nearly everyone in the inn. She was like that, always the center of attention, and thriving from it. 

“Admiring you? No, not like that. That wasn’t my intention” The man said, clearly a little flabbergasted to be addressed so directly. Mason’s suspicions faded almost instantaneously, and his demeanor changed now that he was becoming more curious about what this man had to say for himself. 

“Then what were you doing? Did you want to ask me something?” Morgan wondered. “I haven’t got any skooma, sorry. Fresh out” she cracked a small smile. 

“Skooma? No…” The man stared at her quizzically until he caught on that she was only being playful. He seemed to relax a fraction, realizing that he wasn’t going to either be slapped in the face, or insulted. “But I do want to ask you something if you’ll hear me out” 

“We’re listening,” Morgan said, pulling Mason into the conversation indirectly. 

“My name is Lucien Flavius. I’m a scientist, philosopher, amateur wizard and something of a musician, though I suppose that’s more of a hobby” Lucien began. 

The twins listened to him, almost enthralled at this point. Mason’s own curiosity was reaching a boiling point now, wondering what this multi talented individual wanted with the two of them, well Morgan specifically. 

“I couldn’t help noticing that you seem…. How can I put this… well acquainted with the less savory side of Skyrim?” Lucien continued. 

Mason almost wanted to laugh at how scarily accurate he was. Considering the pair had just indirectly committed a murder less than an hour ago, he was beginning to wonder if this Lucien fellow was omniscient. 

“Well, if you mean by having the ability to fight, you’d be correct. That skooma comment was a joke. I don’t actually sell skooma” Morgan corrected. “Do you need help with something?”

Lucien half smiled before continuing. “As a matter of fact I do. I’m here in Skyrim on an expedition. Academic mainly. I find the province simply fascinating. The flora, the fauna, the ruins both Dwemer and Nordic. The architecture, the politics…” 

“Get to the point poet. I’m not getting any younger” Morgan interjected. 

“I suppose what I’m asking is, would you awfully mind if I… tag along? I will of course compensate you most handsomely for putting up with me” Lucien said. 

Mason wanted to immediately say no. There was a chance that the pair of them would be getting in huge trouble for what they’d done. He didn’t want to drag another innocent soul into this. The mention of money did seem tempting however. He looked at Morgan and found his sister gazing back at him, possibly thinking the same questions. He tried to read her expression, trying to telepathically sow doubt into her mind at this prospect. It was a shame the pair wasn’t actually telepathic. 

“Well first of all, you wouldn’t just be accompanying me. My name is Morgan, and this is my twin brother Mason. I think the two of us will have to discuss this if you’ll give us just a moment” Morgan decided. “Follow me” she told Mason, and turned to leave the Inn. 

Mason followed and caught up to her before the door could slam shut in his face. Slipping back out over the threshold, he stood close enough to her so that they could speak without fear of anybody hearing. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. He seems like a good person but….” he was abruptly cut off. 

“Mason, this could be our protection in a way. He’s clearly not from around here-” 

“Neither are we!” 

“Wait, listen. What if something happens, what if we got found out for the accident. We could shift the blame on this guy. He’s a milk drinker, and there are two of us” Morgan began. 

“NO” Mason almost shouted. “No. no i'm not doing that. Not to him. I’d rather be thrown in a dungeon then let somebody else take the fall. You know I’d never agree to that” he said, feeling slightly sick at the mere thought. 

“Fine. I understand. Still, I think we should let him come with us for the sole fact that he’s going to pay us. You know we have no money. We need the income. I swear on all the divines I won't throw him under the carriage if it comes down to it” Morgan promised. 

The coin did sound like it would be worth the addition. As long as she promised not to do that to him, he figured he’d be okay with it. It wasn’t as if it was a permanent arrangement. If they found out that Lucien snored too loud, or had a weird obsession with feet, they could just ask him to leave and it would be done as simple as that. If he turned the offer down, he’d be turning down free money and not even he was that stupid. 

“Fine Morgan. He can come with us” Mason sighed. “Let’s go tell him” he was already turning to go back inside. His feet were aching after so much running all he wanted to do was sit down for a while. 

Back in the Inn nothing seemed to change. The same exact people were still there and paying them absolutely no attention. It seemed like the only person who even really noticed them beyond a thousand yard stare was this Lucien fellow. Mason was thankful for that. It quelled his anxiety that somebody could have known what they’d done. 

Lucien waited, and Mason spoke first before Morgan could. “You can come with us but there are a few rules. When we stay at an Inn, you need to buy your own room. You also need to buy your own armor and weapons unless Morgan gives you a hand me down” Now that he was looking at Lucien, he was beginning to notice how slender he was. Maybe some of Morgan’s armor would even fit him were she to get an upgrade. “And finally you have to at least try to defend yourself. I don’t exactly fight. I don’t think my sister would appreciate having to defend the both of us single handedly”

“Marvelous” Lucien said. “I was expecting you’d say yes, so I already got the coin ready” he held out a large pouch that Morgan took at once, tucking it into her fur backpack. “But while we’re on the subject of fighting, I was wondering if you could teach me? Maybe just some tips and tricks perhaps?” He was looking at Morgan at this point. 

“Sure, poet. I mostly cast destruction spells. I’m decent with my sword but it’s not my first line of defense anymore” Morgan said, sitting down at the table where he’d been occupying. “The first thing you can do for us can be to buy us a meal and drinks as a form of down-payment” 

“But I’ve already given you the first installment of gold-” Lucien began. 

“Don’t argue with her, there’s no point” Mason sat down on the other side of Lucien. “If you’re coming with us you’ll learn that pretty fast. Don’t argue with Morgan, and don’t feed her apples. She’s incredibly allergic” 

“Feed me sweet rolls,” Morgan said. “I’m not allergic to those” 

“I’ll go fetch us some then” Lucien stood, attempting to climb off the bench but found it difficult being flanked by the twins on either side of him. He managed without bumping either of them, and headed over to the innkeeper. Once he was far enough out of earshot, Mason heard Morgan mutter something that sounded like ‘scapegoat’ which he chose to ignore. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Morgan**

It turned out the poet was alright company. Morgan didn’t know if it was just her full stomach talking, or if she was actually beginning to enjoy having him around. On second thought, it was probably the gold. It had been a while since the twins possessed this much money, and it was certainly appreciated. The first installment of gold Lucien had given them for letting him come along on their adventures had purchased the twins both new attire.

Morgan’s armor was more than double the price of Mason’s new robes, but that was a given. Leather was more valuable than cloth, and she’d chosen the best thing the blacksmith had on offer that fit her. Currently being the only defender of the group that had substantial experience meant that she got to splurge when necessary. When Morgan had finished speaking to the blacksmith, she turned to her brother and slid the hilt of an iron dagger into his hand. “I know you don’t like killing, but just hold on to it. You’ll never know when it’ll come in handy” She expected him to protest, but she felt a little proud once he didn’t. Perhaps he was just trying to show off for the poet. Speaking of the poet….

Clad in brand new leather armor, a different style than Morgan’s own, and weilding a brand new steel sword, he seemed ready to take on anything in battle. Anything that was the size of a chicken or smaller. It wasn’t Morgan’s fault that she didn’t have high hopes for him, it was what her father taught her. Any man that needed the protection of a woman, such as herself, wasn’t a man that deserved to even hold a blade. Still, she hadn’t seen him fight yet, so maybe she should be cutting him more slack.

“Now that we’re all geared up and out of our old clothes, what should we do?” Mason wondered. He was always incredibly inclusive to others' input and ideas unlike she was. He’d been like this since they were old enough to talk, so it always made her the de-facto leader.

“I think we should perhaps see if anybody in the town needs any assistance. Falkreath is a lovely place, but I could see why the empire let it go. It’s looking a little worse for wear at the moment thanks to the war” Lucien said before Morgan could even get a word out. He was always so upbeat and positive, even when he was being less than kind to the current state of the town.

“Okay poet, who do you think we should be asking? You’ve been here longer than we have” Morgan said. She’d called him ‘poet’ half a dozen times since they’d met the other day, and it didn’t seem at all offended or bothered by it. She was honestly starting to think he might like it.

“We could start with the Jarl? If you both are okay with that?” Mason said. “It’s a good-” he stopped speaking once Morgan shot him an are-you-serious? look. The Jarl was the last person they should be speaking to considering what happened. It would basically be walking right into the spotlight for him to take notice of them. The last thing they should be doing is attracting more attention than necessary right now.

“What’s the matter? That look could burn a hole right through the sun” Lucien tried to joke and keep things light hearted. He could probably sense the tension though.

Mason seemed to catch on right away. “Right. Maybe not the jarl. He might…. Be wondering where we got all this armor and weapons. He might think we’re thieves” He attempted to lie. Morgan could have physically face palmed right now. Being a much better liar, she tried to come up with something on the spot.

“Alright fine. I’ll tell you. You don’t have to lie for me Mace” Mace was the childhood nickname she had for her brother. “Lucien.. I uh… have a crush on the jarl. I know it might not seem like it because I'm so independent and strong, but my knees go weak for him. I don’t really want to face him yet” she could vomit at the words she was speaking right now, but she had to think up something.

“Right…” The look on Lucien’s face completely gave away he didn’t believe a single word she said. “You know, I wasn’t born yesterday. I can tell you’re lying to me, but lucky for you, I don’t need an explanation” Lucien said. “If you’d prefer not to tell me why you’re avoiding the Jarl, I wont bring it up. Don’t worry” he smiled.

Morgan didn’t return the smile. Mason did though, and thanked him. She rolled her eyes and said. “Fine, thanks I guess, poet. No Jarl. Let’s see if anyone else needs anything done”

The remainder of the day was spent helping out the townsfolk doing mostly menial tasks that Morgan despised. Deliver this, find that, it was all so mundane and boring that Morgan could have fallen asleep had she not needed to remain conscious in order to walk. Mason and Lucien seemed to be the only ones having a good time. During the entire time they did the odd-jobs the two chatted. It began gradually at first, but after they all stopped for lunch at the Dead Man's Drink, the two had gotten more comfortable with one another. Slowly but surely they sparked endless conversation between the both of them, effectively making Morgan a third wheel.

She occasionally tried to interject with topics and information of her own, but they never stuck or picked up speed. The more she listened to them, the more she found out that her brother had a lot more in common with the poet than she expected. They talked about books, history, living in the Imperial city, the country of Skyrim, where they wanted to visit and what they wanted to do once they got there. At the end of the day Morgan wondered how they even still had lips due to all the chattering.

She didn’t mind not being included. She happily tuned out a lot of what they were saying. It allowed her to think, but sometimes her mind drifted to unhappier topics. Things she’d have preferred to avoid thinking about. That was why once they’d set up camp for the night by the calm waters of lake ilinalta, she wanted to get some of her own words in this time, if only to keep her mind from wandering. The fire was doing a wonderful job of keeping them warm, and they’d just finished eating some of the food they’d brought with them from the Inn. Things were almost peaceful. One could forget the trauma of what happened only a few days prior. Almost.

“I don’t want to do that again tomorrow” She commented. “It was too much walking and talking. Not enough fighting. I need to get more practice with my sword arm” She made a show of flexing her left arm for the boys to see. Deciding that Lucien was going to be traveling with them for a while now, she decided to let him in on something she was otherwise not planning on telling anybody, let alone him. Maybe it was the false sense of peace and comfort getting to her, causing her to let her guard down.

“I used to fight with my right hand. I was actually pretty great at it. Put anybody up against me, even a grown man, and I could probably take him down” Morgan began.

“She’s not kidding either” Mason interjected, being a wonderful hype man. He could tell where this story was going.

“But my wrist ended up getting broken” She said, her proud tone faltering in the slightest way. “I couldn’t even hold a sword for months. It hurt so much. Then when it healed, it healed wrong because the healer our father sent for arrived drunk and didn’t set it properly before he used magic on it, and it ended up healing wrong. I can’t really twist it that well now” She held out her arm. Illuminated by the fire, the boys could see clear as day how when she tried to roll it, her face changed to a far more pained expression.

“Oh dear” Lucien said, his tone dripping with empathy. “That must have been awful”

Morgan nodded. “I’ve had to relearn everything again with my left hand now. It’s been a lot slower of a process. I’m getting better, but I’m not fully back to where I was with my dominant hand yet. I don’t know if I’ll ever be” she admitted.

“Maybe with practice” Mason said. “You had a teacher back when we lived in Cyrodiil. I was going to try and help you practice now that we’re here in Skyrim, but I don’t think I’ll be of much help. You could probably defeat me with your foot” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“What if I offer my assistance? It could help us both. You’d get stronger with your left hand, and I’d learn swordplay in general. I know the basics, face your target and swing, but I don’t know much more than that. We could teach each other” Lucien said. “What do you say, Morgan?”

She thought about it for a moment. “Okay” she decided. “That sounds good. I’ll try not to go too hard on you, poet” the corner of her mouth turned up into a smirk.

“I’ve been wondering why you keep calling me that,” Lucien said, finally addressing it. “I’m not exactly a poet. I don’t really write my own songs. I tend to stick to what I already know. Ragnar the red is one of my favorites”

“Oh there once was a hero named Ragnar the red” Mason began, a grin on his face.

“No. Don’t you dare” Morgan said.

“Who came riding to Whiterun from ole Rorikstead” Lucien continued, grinning equally as stupidly.

“I changed my mind. Once we start this training arrangement I’m actually going to go hard on you. I’m going to make you bleed poet” she threatened, but judging by her tone it was less of a real threat and more of a reaction to the singing. Deep down she didn’t hate it too much. Lucien didn’t have that awful of a voice, but she wouldn’t let the two of them know. They might start singing all the time, and she wouldn’t be able to stand that.

All her life it had been herself and Mason. The dynamic duo. Never did she imagine that once they arrived in Skyrim they’d become a trio. She also didn’t think she’d be the cause of an innocent man's death either, but that happened too. As her brother and Lucien sang, she stared into the embers of the fire wondering if her and Mason would be able to get away with it. Things seemed to be going alright, but she suspected that was because nobody started missing the man yet. He was a healer and lived out in the woods. It might be a few days before somebody went to check up on him. They might have been safe for now, but sooner or later somebody would find his body, and someone would start looking for answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter woooo! Thank you to everyone who's read so far. Just as some useful information this is a multi-POV style story so Its going to alternate between the twins. Whoever's pov the chapter will be in will be at the very top.


End file.
